CHAPTER NINE
After breakfast the next morning, I shuffle into my closet to get dressed for the day. I’m startled to a stop by a full-length mirror hanging on the back wall, which wasn’t there when I came into my closet for my pajamas the night before. Slowly creeping up to the mirror, I notice it’s quite a bit thicker than a normal mirror should be. After searching the sides, my hand runs over a clasp that opens the cabinet. On the left, a keyhole with a key sticking out of it rests below the clasp. Turning the key, the mirror opens to reveal a large jewelry box built inside.
The mirror and jewelry box combination is a surprise on its own, but the two necklaces hanging inside the jewelry box shock me even more. One is a long gold chain with a large circular pendant hanging at the bottom. The other is a silver chain, not quite as long, but thicker around. A silver feather pendant hangs on the end of it. Both are gorgeous. The box has plenty of room for other jewelry including special spots for rings, earrings, and bracelets.
Leaving the necklaces in the box, I close and lock it again. It doesn’t take long to think of the person who was probably responsible for the new addition to my closet. After getting dressed for the day, I make my way up to the game room where Cassie sits watching television. Every Tuesday after breakfast she watches her recorded shows, which makes finding her today easy.
“Hey,” she greets me with a distracted wave. “What’s up?”
“Did you put a mirrored j-j-jewelry box thing in m-m-my closet?” I ask, sure she’s the only one who would do such a thing.
Her lips slowly and mischievously quirk up, but she simply continues to watch the drama unfold on TV. “No clue what you mean.”
“Hmmm.” She’s not telling me the truth, that part is obvious. Though, I don’t call her on it. She must have a reason for keeping her antics to herself.
Instead of trying to get Cassie to admit to putting the box in my closet, I decide to join her. We sit in silence for a while, watching some reality shows about women who are famous for no apparent reason other than their love of drama and arguing.
In the middle of one of Cassie’s shows, her phone rings. “Hey, darling,” she greets the person, and I immediately know it’s Jaxon on the other end.
She listens to him for a few seconds before responding, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “On my way, honey bunny.”
Hopping to her feet, she hands me the remote. “Jaxon needs my assistance with some things. Have fun with the show. Just don’t delete this episode. I want to know what happens.”
She skips out of the room, leaving me in a fit of giggles. She gets really invested in her reality shows. She acts like she knows the people personally. It’s almost as fun to watch her reactions to the people as it is to watch the actual show.
With nothing better to do, I finish the episode Cassie and I were watching, then start a different one she mentioned to me in the past. Halfway through, my head begins to throb with no warning. This has happened a few times before, and dread spreads through me.
Turning the television off quickly, I lie back on the couch and close my eyes. My hope at catching the horrid headache early enough is crushed when lying on my back does nothing to alleviate the pain. My stomach twists as another needle digs deeper into my brain.
Knowing I need to head to a bathroom right away, I rise from the couch slowly and try to make my way to the second floor with only one eye cracked. Even the smallest light burns my eyes and worsens the pain in my head. I’m torn between going at a sloth’s pace versus racing to the bathroom before I get sick on the stairs. If I move too fast, it causes more pain, and I’ll get sick sooner. If I move too slowly, I don’t make it to the bathroom in time.
Luckily, I’m able to move slowly and make it to the bathroom before the contents of my stomach come up. The motion of emptying my stomach causes my head to ache more, and black spots dance on the outside of my vision.
With no other ideas as to how to get rid of the pain, I rinse my mouth and try to crawl to my bed. The thought of sleeping off the headache is the only thing keeping my body moving. Halfway to my bedroom, a hallway door opens then slams shut. A thousand knives stab my brain simultaneously. Stopping in my tracks and placing my forehead on the floor, I take a few deep breaths to ease the sharpness of the pain. My fingers press into my temples in a feeble attempt at relieving the pressure.
“Riley?” Caleb’s voice is at a normal level, but to my sensitive ears, it sounds like he screams at the top of his lungs.
I whimper, but he doesn’t seem to understand the noise is my biggest issue right now because he continues talking at a slightly louder volume as he frantically kneels next to me. “What’s going on, baby? Are you hurt?”
“Please, no noise,” I beg, barely able to put any volume into my voice.
He freezes for a minute, probably unsure what to do. Finally, he whispers softly, “Is it your head?”
After grunting a quiet confirmation, Caleb picks me up and carries me to my bedroom. Even with his slow, deliberate movements, I take multiple deep breaths to keep my twisting stomach from sending me back to the bathroom. He lays me on the bed and turns the lights off.
“I’ll be right back,” he whispers, leaving the room without a sound.
A few minutes later he’s back with a glass of water with some pills in his hands. “I spoke to Leanne,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible. “She wants to know if light, sound, and movement hurt your head more.”
“Mhm,” I whisper as I settle into the bed.
“Then, she thinks it’s a migraine. She gave me these pills for you to take. If they don’t work, we’ll take you to the doctor and have you checked out.”
Caleb’s hand supports my back as he places the pills in my mouth. A cool glass touches my lips, and I take a drink of the water, trying to keep as still as possible. Once I’ve taken the medicine, he lowers me back to the bed, covers me up, and sits down on the bed beside me.
“Just rest, babe,” he orders softly. “If it’s not better in half an hour, we’ll take you into the doctor.”
He sits beside me silently while we wait for the medicine to help. His hand strokes my hair softly, soothing the pain slightly. It seems like three hours later, but I know it’s only half an hour when my door opens. Even the minute creak of the hinges echoes like a thousand gunshots in my ears.
“Caleb,” Dad whispers, obviously staying as quiet as possible. “How is she?”
Caleb’s hand stops stroking my hair, as he slides off the bed. My hand shoots out, grabbing onto his shirt, not wanting him to leave my side. My grip stops him from leaving the bed, but brings a moan from me at the same time.
He takes my hand from his shirt and holds it in his own. “How do you feel, baby girl?”
Blinking my eyes open, I turn my head toward him, but the motion brings a wave of pain and nausea. Inhaling sharply, I try to hold back the urge to throw up again. Taking deep breaths isn’t working this time, though. Instead, I sit up quickly, putting my hand over my mouth. If I hustle, I might make it to the bathroom in time. Caleb puts a hand on my shoulder, preventing me from getting up and I panic. If he doesn’t let me up, I’m going to get sick on him and then die from embarrassment.
A quiet commotion comes from around my room, and a trash can is placed into my hands just in time. My hair is gently pulled back and held at the base of my neck, keeping it from getting in the way. It takes a few minutes for me to catch my breath after I’m through. When I’m able to put the trash can down, someone places a cold cloth in my hands.
“Thank you.” My whole body shakes from the pain in my head and the aftermath of being sick. Caleb guides me onto my back in the bed.
Dad whispers to Caleb as he creeps out of the room, “I’m going to get my wallet. We’re taking her to the doctor. Carry her down to the car.” His tone leaves no room for argument, although I doubt Caleb would argue.
If I wasn’t in such agony, I might protest. But it hurts too badly to even think straight, let alone try and convince them I’ll be fine with time.
Caleb picks me up softly, keeping his movements slow and gentle. “Just hang in there, baby.”
Clinging to his shirt, I bury my face against his chest, breathing deeply and trying to keep nausea at bay.
“Here’s a bucket, just in case she gets sick again,” Leanne murmurs. “Call me, and let me know what the doctor says. If they’re going to keep her, we’ll come down there.”
“I’ll call you,” Dad promises. “Tell Cassie to calm down. Her losing her mind isn’t doing anyone any good.”
“You know how she is.” Leanne chuckles softly. “She’s not happy about being left behind to wait and see what the doctor has to say. Even Jaxon said he wanted to come with you guys.”
It strikes me as odd Caleb would be allowed to come with us while Jaxon, Cassie, and Leanne stay behind. For whatever reason, they all must have decided it was best for Caleb to come and I can’t complain. Being in his arms soothes me slightly. Even the smallest bit of relief is welcome.
A car door opens as Caleb and I reach Dad and Leanne. Caleb slides into the back of the car, still holding me in his arms. The door closes, and I cringe, curling closer to Caleb. When the driver’s door opens, and my dad gets in, I brace myself for the sound of the door closing again.
“Mark,” Caleb whisper-yells. “Close it softly.”
There’s no verbal response, but the driver door closes a great deal softer, only making a quiet click as it’s locked into place. Everyone remains silent on the drive, which I’m grateful for.
When we arrive at the doctor, Caleb carries me inside. Dad speaks to the receptionist, and I’m brought directly back to a private room with the lights dimmed and everyone speaking in hushed tones. After Caleb sets me on the bed, I’m given a cold cloth for my head, and a warm blanket is laid over me.
Caleb continues to hold my hand while someone takes my vitals. Having my hand in his is comforting, especially with a bunch of people bustling around me when I can’t even see. My eyes stay closed since the idea of opening them makes my stomach turn.
“Hello, Ms. Storm,” a male voice murmurs near the bed. My grip tightens on Caleb’s fingers, and he uses his free hand to stroke my hair again, trying to reassure me. “I’m Dr. Rodriguez, can you answer a few questions for me?”
“Y-y-yes,” I whisper, my voice shaking.
“Good,” he murmurs. “I’m assuming light, noise, and movement hurts?”
“Mhm.”
“Has this happened before?”
“Mhm.”
As he continues to ask questions, he touches the underside of my jaw, poking at it with the tips of his fingers. He checks my pulse, then pushes on my hands and feet. “How long have these headaches lasted in the past?”
“S-s-sometimes hours, s-s-sometimes days,” I admit, whimpering when speaking a simple sentence brings a wave of pain.
“And you get sick every time you get them?” he asks.
“S-s-sometimes,” I breathe. “It d-d-depends on how b-b-bad the pain g-g-gets.”
After a few more questions, he finally finishes. “Okay, it sounds like you’ve got a pretty bad migraine,” he informs me. “We’re going to insert an IV, give you some fluids, and something I call a cocktail of medications. It’ll be three medications at once. It should knock the headache out rather fast since it’s all going in the IV. We should have you out of her in an hour or two.”
“Thank y-y-you.”
“Of course.” He pats the bed beside my leg. “I’ll come check on you again in a bit to see how the meds are working.”
After the doctor leaves, a nurse comes in to place an IV in my arm. “This is going to be a big poke, but it’ll be worth it.”
My hand tightens again on Caleb’s. He stands from his chair next to my bed and moves the cool cloth from my face. Placing his forehead softly on mine, he murmurs comforting words to me as the nurse inserts the IV.
A gentle hand comes to rest on my blanket-covered foot and I crack one eye just long enough to see my dad at the end of my bed. When the nurse finishes putting the IV in, Dad moves his hand. “I’m going to call Leanne and let everyone know what the doctor said. I’ll be right back, kiddo.”
The nurse starts the bag of fluids, then injects the medication the doctor prescribed. “This should work fast. I’ll let the doctor know I’ve given them to you. He should check up on you in a few minutes to see how they’re working. For now, just get some rest if you can.”
It only takes a few minutes for the medicine to take effect. They’re like magic when they kick in. The unbearable pain fades almost instantly, leaving only a dull ache. Not long after, I’m able to open my eyes without getting nauseous.
Caleb grins down at me as I blink a few times to get my vision focused. “How do you feel?”
“Much better.” I take a few deep breaths, testing out small movements with my head. My body begins to shake slightly, but I ignore it, just happy to have relief. “I’m s-s-sorry for all of this.”
“Hey.” He frowns, putting a finger under my chin and directing my gaze to his. “You didn’t ask for this, baby. No apologizing for things you can’t control. I’m happy to take care of you when you’re sick.”
My cheeks brighten at his words. If I’m being honest with myself, having Caleb take care of me when I’m hurting is wonderful. His calm patience helps to soothe me when all I want to do is break down in tears. Crying with such a terrible headache is not a smart idea at all, it only makes things ten times worse.
Squeezing Caleb’s hand in mine, I make sure I’ve gained his full attention before speaking. “Thank you for staying and h-h-helping me. It means a l-l-lot.”
The shaking in my body grows worse. I assume it’s from nerves, but Caleb must think I’m cold. He tucks the blanket tighter around me then takes off his sweatshirt and drapes it over me.
“Anytime, baby.” He settles back to my side and kisses the top of my head. “I’m always here for you.”
The doctor and my dad take that moment to come back into the room. Caleb sits back down, and dad takes residence at the foot of the bed for the doctor to check me over again. “I notice you’re shaking pretty hard, that’s unfortunately a common side effect of one of the medications. It should wear off in a few hours. Just get some rest today, no vigorous activity, no operating heavy machinery. Honestly, if you can just stay in bed and relax all day, that would be best.” Entering some information into the computer in the corner, he glances my way once more. “Any questions for me?”
When I shake my head, he glances to Dad and Caleb. “You two have any questions for me?”
“What should we do if this happens again?” Dad asks, still speaking quietly.
“I’ll send you home with a prescription. If that doesn’t work, come back here, and we will do the same thing we did today.” He writes down the prescription and hand the paper to my dad. “This should work, though. Take it as soon as you start to feel the pain. It will work better the sooner you take it.”
“Thanks, Dr. Rodriguez.” Dad nods as he puts the prescription in his pocket.
Dr. Rodriguez gives me a quick wave before heading for the door. “I’ll have the nurse come take out your IV, then you’re good to go. You may feel dizzy and lightheaded today, that’s also common. No reason to be worried about it. I’m glad you’re feeling better, Riley.”
“Th-th-thank you,” I stammer, pushing myself up on the bed slightly.
The nurse comes in a few minutes later, easily taking the IV out of my arm. She puts a piece of gauze and tape over the small hole. “You’re good to go, dear. Just rest today.”
After getting to my feet, the room spins. Caleb wraps an arm around my waist and lifts me off my feet.
“You’re supposed to take it easy,” he scolds gently.
I raise a brow at him. “Does that mean n-n-no walking?”
Dad scoffs next to us. “I’m with Caleb on this one. Resting is all you’re allowed to do today. When we get home, I’ll have Cassie bring you some of those girly magazines she loves. I’ll make you some food and bring it up to you, and you can just hang out in bed all day.”
It warms my heart to have dad and Caleb caring about me. They didn’t even think twice about helping me get better. My dad offering to do something as simple as make me food has tears building behind my eyes.
“Thank you both, for helping me,” I mutter as we get into the car. “It’s the first t-t-time I’ve ever had medicine for one of those h-h-headaches, and having them is w-w-way better than waiting it out for hours or days.”
“Anytime, kiddo,” Dad assures me. “You never have to suffer through something like that again. Just tell us, and we will do whatever we can to fix it for you.”
When we make it home, Dad and Caleb make sure I’m set up in my bed. Cassie brings me magazines as promised. Dad makes me a sandwich and some soup. Jaxon sneaks some chocolate in, and Leanne grabs a few books she knows I like from the shelves upstairs.
Once everyone files out of the room, content with the knowledge that I’m fine now, Caleb kicks off his shoes and sits down on the bed next to me. He picks up one of the magazines and flips through it.
My eyes focus on the side of his face, and I wait patiently for him to give me his attention.
He grins. “Yes?”
“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.” I pick at pretend lint on the blanket.
He closes his magazine and sets it down. “Would you like me to leave?”
“No,” I admit, my cheeks turning pink. “I like having you h-h-here. But if you have other things to do, I u-u-understand.”
He shakes his head and picks the magazine back up. “Nope, I’m free all day. You’re stuck with me. Though, I’m not sure I want to read about twenty ways to meet my perfect man. I might stick with a book instead.”
Smiling to myself, I choose a different magazine and scan through the pages. We spend the rest of the day talking about the articles in the magazines, napping, and reading our own books.
When we’re forced to get up and leave my room for dinner at the end of the day, I realize I really like being stuck with Caleb.